The Girl Who Can't Be Touched

Summary: Izora Hallowell is a pureblood witch that has a rare form of psychometry. She's managed to stay mostly out of the spotlight for the past 5 years with her two best friends, but that's about to change.

Chapter One: The Hogwarts Express

Full Summary: Izora Hallowell is a pureblood witch that suffers from a rare form of psychometry. She has the rare ability to not only learn information about a person from touching an object but from skin-to-skin contact. She's managed to stay mostly out of the spotlight for the past 5 years with her two best friends, but as she enters her 6th year, four boys make that it impossible.

Disclaimer: I own nothing that you may recognize, which includes but is not limited to J.K. Rowling's characters, Hogwarts, etcetera. I do however own all original characters unless expressly stated otherwise.

Rated T for mild language, mild sexual innuendos (it's a story that features several teenage boy, what do you expect?), and possibly mildly violent actions. You have been warned.

Stepping through the magical barrier that separated the
wizard’s platform from the Muggle train station, onto Platform 9 ¾ was like
walking into a wall of sound. Or getting a boxed ‘round the ears with an
air-fist. The noise level was that obnoxious.

It was understandable really, considering the level of
activity going on. People, students and non-students alike, were bustling
around with luggage trolleys stacked high with trunks and the occasional animal
carrier or owl cage (the animals inside adding more than their own fair share
of noise to the commotion being made by the humans), all chattering away
excitedly or morosely about the upcoming school year.

Suffice to say, the noise could be a tad overwhelming
even for those who’d been to the platform many times, but most especially for
first-timers.

Luckily, the young woman who’d just stepped through the
barrier happened to be one of the former type of visitor. Izora Hallowell was a
young witch of seventeen years entering her sixth year at the renowned Hogwarts
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

One would describe Izora as a statuesque beauty with
lily-white skin, hair as fair as spun moonlight, and large eyes the color of
frosted sea-glass …but that would only be if the person describing her was
waxing poetic. In reality, Izora Hallowell was a tall, waifish young woman–she
looked as if a stiff breeze could knock her over, all gangly limbs, sharp
elbows, and rather knobbly knees–and her complexion was more like that of a
pallid ghost than a lily while her hair was a dull shade of white-gold. And
those ‘large eyes the color of frosted sea-glass’? Well, they were a rather pretty shade of
blue-green, but had the misfortune of being a bit too large for her angular,
gaunt face and being accentuated by near-permanent dark circles that denoted
how little sleep the young woman got.

Moving off to the side to avoid the chaos of the platform
with her own luggage cart, Izora observed the bustle; tearful goodbyes between
parents and their children, impersonal and dismissive farewells between the
more distant and less affectionate wizarding families, and the ever present
students who had made the journey to the Hogwarts Express independently,
without their family.

With neither of her own parents to see her off, Izora
fell into this select category, which didn’t bother her overly much–she’d much
rather avoid an awkward confrontation with her dear mother, even if that meant
her father was also absent.

Pursing her lips, Izora squinted as she tried to search
for her friends in the crowd while remaining on the fringes, pushing her
luggage cart along while making her way closer to the bright red train with Hogwarts Express embossed in gold on the
side. She made it to the baggage car at the end of the Hogwarts Express without
finding her two friends and, sighing softly in mild frustration, Izora
reluctantly grabbed her school satchel, which tossed over her shoulder, then
she grabbed her main trunk with one hand and her small cat carrier with the
other and toted them both along with her as she made her way onto the Hogwarts
Express.

Grimacing slightly, Izora dropped down heavily onto the
rather ugly blue and green checkered middle seat after wrestling her heavy trunk
onto the rack above her head. Her pet carrier was perched on the seat beside
her and she took a moment to check on her familiar–a pine marten, or rather the
wizarding world’s equivalent to one, named Draci. The marten was sleeping
peacefully at the back of the carrier, curled up into a tight ball with his
face hidden beneath his bushy tail. Izora’s thin lips twitched up into an
affectionate smile and, after removing her school satchel from the top, she
placed the cat carrier on the floor, carefully pushing it underneath her seat.
She would take Draci out later, when he woke up.

Izora settled into her seat and pulled her leather
satchel into her lap, unbuckling the clasps and flipping it open to retrieve
the Muggle book her father had given her yesterday evening. With J.R.R.
Tolkien’s The Hobbit in her grasp,
Izora tucked her satchel under her seat alongside her pet carrier, leaned back
in her seat and, after a quick glance at the watch on her wrist to check the
time (a quarter ‘til eleven o’clock), she cracked the book open and prepared to
immerse herself in the adventures of Bilbo Baggins.

“’In a hole in the
ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends
of worms and an oozy smell…’” She trailed off with a smile, her lips moving as
she continued to read silently to herself.

Izora was just getting to the part where the wizard in
the book was saving a Bilbo and his dwarven companions from a trio of trolls
when the shrill, piercing note of the train whistle announced the train’s
eminent departure from the station. She took a quick peek out the window,
watching a moment as students hurried to bid the last goodbyes to their
families before boarding the train.

As she observed a young woman with bright red hair and a
baby on her hip, fussing over a pair of young men around Izora’s own age while
another man with equally bright red hair watched in amusement from the side,
two young red-haired boys standing next to him, Izora briefly wondered what it
would be like to be fussed over like that.

She shook the thought from her head and returned to her
book. There was no use thinking about such things; even if her mother would
always remain a cold, distant figure, her father did his best to shower her
with affection whenever he wasn’t busy with his Auror duties.

The train began to move a few minutes later, pulling away
from the station with an almost imperceptible lurch, but Izora was much too
engrossed in her book to pay the scenery flying by the window much mind. In
fact, she was so riveted by the story being woven before her eyes that she
didn’t even notice when the compartment door slid open.

“I’m telling you, Padfoot, this is the year-Oi! What’re
you doing here?”

Surprised, Izora gave a soft squeak and jumped in her
seat at the loud, masculine voice, jerking her gaze from her book to stare at
the quartet of boys standing in the door of the compartment, the
deer-in-the-headlights expression on her face almost comical.

“Erm…” Izora faltered, her brows furrowing even as her
eyes remained impossibly large. Her book fell from suddenly limp fingers,
tumbling from her lap to the floor with a soft thump. “H-hello?”

Suddenly, the young man standing beside the bespectacled
lad that had startled Izora smiled charmingly, his grey eyes gleaming with
mischief as he all but swept into the compartment, snatching up Izora’s book,
all before she could so much as bat an eyelash.

“Hello, lovely.” He presented the book to her grandly,
the gesture disturbingly courtly in nature. “I believe you dropped this.”

Izora blinked owlishly at him, lips parted slightly in
shock as she stared into the young man’s stormy gray eyes. Wicked eyes, she thought distantly as she tentatively took the book
from him, That’s what Ma Siobhán calls
eyes like his…

Someone cleared their throat and Izora jumped again and
looked away from the smug-looking young man with the wicked eyes. Mortified
embarrassment filled her and turned her pallid face an intense shade of crimson
as she found herself under the amused and knowing regard of the other three
boys. Still embarrassed, and feeling a little more than resentful at the looks
the three boys were giving her, Izora’s lips turned down in a faint,
reproachful frown.

“C-can I h-help you?” She asked in her stuttery, nervous
way, probably more sharply than was polite, but she was still rather
embarrassed at being caught ogling the young man still standing in front of
her. She grimaced slightly when she heard her own voice, husky with a slight
rasp from lack of adequate use.

The bespectacled boy quirked a brow and exchanged a
smirking glance with his grey-eyed companion, before stepping further into the
room. Izora eyed him, and his wicked eyed friend, with some suspicion as they
both dropped down into the seats on either side of her after placing their
trunks in the rack above her head where her own trunk was placed while their
two companions followed suit on the other side of the compartment, the tallest
taking the seat directly across from her when he was finished.

“Nope,” The bespectacled boy replied cheerfully, making
himself comfortable in the seat on her left, the one closest to the window.
“Just needed a place to sit.”

Izora turned slightly towards him with a small frown,
more than a little perturbed that she couldn’t place who exactly the four boys
were even though they looked exceedingly familiar. She squinted slightly,
scrutinizing him intently from behind the curtain of hair; when he’d been
standing, he hadn’t been the tallest or the shortest of the quartet and he had
a muscular yet wiry build, untidy black hair and hazel eyes that gleamed with
mischief and cheer, despite being hidden behind a pair of round spectacles.

He noticed her scrutiny and flashed a smile at her,
revealing even, white teeth and a dimple in his left cheek. Izora blinked,
abruptly realizing where she’d seen him before, and almost let slip a most
unladylike swear that would have gotten her mouth washed out with soap if her
best friend’s mother heard her.

James Potter was sitting in a compartment with her. Which
meant…Izora took a quick look around at the other three boys, her heart sinking
all the way to her toes when she recognized each of them as Sirius Black, Remus
Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew, the quartet known as the Marauders.

Of all the times for her rotten luck to kick in, it had
to be now. Izora tried not to hyperventilate.

Now, Izora wasn’t like most of the girls her age, which
fawned over the four boys currently staring at her with varying degrees of
amusement–or bemused concern in Remus Lupin’s case. In fact, she would very
much rather avoid any and all contact with the so-called Marauders at all
costs, for the simple fact that they were pretty much renowned throughout the
whole of Hogwarts. And Izora was very much not,
a fact that she would very much like not to change, thank you very much!

Oh Merlin, she thought as a deep-rooted anxiety froze her
in place, she had to get away as far away from them as she could. She stared
blankly in front of her, very much resembling a petrified rabbit with eyes as
large as saucers and her already pale face turning an even more ghostly shade.

Izora was about five seconds away from a full blown panic
attack when a pair of fingers snapped in front of her face, startling her
enough that she jumped and recoiled, turning to look at the boy sitting to her
right with huge blue-green eyes.

“Y-yes?” She all but squeaked, a blush scorching across
her cheeks a second later at the undignified sound.

As of she’d had a bucket of ice water dumped or the aquamenti spell cast on her, Izora’s
almost-panic attack was replaced with the urge to smack that smug,
self-satisfied look off of Sirius Black’s roguishly handsome face with a
Beater’s bat.

She frowned and with as much dignity as she could muster,
Izora stuttered out a reply. “I-I’m f-fine.”

“You sure?” This time it was James Potter that asked, his
expression only mildly less insufferable than his partner-in-crime. He grinned
cheekily at her, “You look a bit peaky still.”

“Understandable, really.” Sirius added, grinning at Izora
just as cheekily as James had when she glanced at him. “We are rather famous, mate. Not surprising the lady was overwhelmed by
our awesome presence.”

“True, true.”

Izora’s felt her eyebrow twitch and she gritted her
teeth, glaring down at the cover of The
Hobbit which she held in white-knuckled grip. Oh how she wished to smack
them both ‘round the head with said book, if for no other reason than to see if
it would pop their oversized egos. Honestly how they manage to fit through
doors with such large heads was beyond Izora.

She took a deep, near silent breath to fortify herself
and ended up accidently catching the eye of Remus Lupin, the Marauder known for
being the most sensible of the quartet–unsurprising considering he was a Prefect. He smiled slightly at
her, rolling his eyes in playful exasperation as James and Sirius continued to
inflate their own egos over her head. Izora felt her cheeks heat up slightly
and she quickly looked back down at her book, intent on studiously ignoring the
four boys currently trespassing on her solitude.

Oh how she wished she’d actually gone searching for her
best friends Dmitri and Galen instead of settling in the first empty compartment
she’d found. She could have avoided all of this then.

“So!” James exclaimed loudly, apparently no longer
interested in boosting his own ego with Sirius, and he shifted in his seat to
look curiously at Izora, “Who the bloody hell are you anyway?”

“James.” Remus chided reproachfully, his voice very raspy
and husky compared to James and Sirius’ smoother voices. It was rather like
gravel-over-velvet in Izora’s mind.

“Sorry, Mum.” James rolled his eyes and made a face at
his taller friend, who gave him a look.
James merely rolled his eyes again and looked back at Izora expectantly,
“Well?”

“I-“ Izora faltered and looked anywhere but at the four
young men currently staring at her. It felt like their gazes were burning holes
in her skin to her and she shied away, fidgeting uncomfortably in her seat and
shifting so her hair hid her face. After a few more seconds of uncomfortable–on
her part at least–silence, Izora cleared her throat and stuttered out her name.

“I-Izora H-H-Hallowell...”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Remus replied gently, offering
her a kind smile when she shyly glanced at him through her hair. “I’m Remus
Lupin.”

“Sirius Black.” Sirius cut in just as Remus went to
introduce the other three. He grinned charmingly and scooped up one of her
fidgeting hands. He quirked a brow at the glove she wore, but still dropped a
kiss on the back of her hand, his eyes locked with hers. “At your service,
dove.”

Izora had stiffened the minute Sirius had touched her
hand and her face went completely blank the second his lips touched the back of
her hand. She could feel the heat of his breath through the glove she wore and
it made her skin prickle uncomfortably, as if she were being pricked by a
hundred red-hot needles. The familiar pin-prick of pain—her peculiar gift, or rather
curse, making itself known—shot through her skull and she grimaced against the
discomfort, forcing away the haze that had started to fog her mind. (1)Even
with her gloves protecting her skin from his touch, her psychometry was raring
to thrust anything and everything about Sirius Black into her mind.

That was most definitely not something she wanted.

A pointed clearing of the throat, snapped Izora out of
her stupor and she jerked her hand out of Sirius’s like his hand was on fire,
the haze dissipating as soon as her hand was free. She grasped her book tightly
in her hands and practically curled in on herself, head bowed and shoulders
protectively. She just barely resisted the urge to pull her knees up to her
chest and completely curl into a little ball on the seat, desperately wanting
to be anywhere but where she currently was; surrounded by four unfamiliar boys,
who only seemed to succeed in making her increasingly uncomfortable and anxious
the longer she was in their presence.

“Erm…right then.” James drawled rather awkwardly, running
a hand through his already mussed hair and exchanging a confused glance with
his best friends before introducing himself, “I’m James Potter.” He nodded
towards the pudgy boy sitting beside Remus, “That’s Peter Pettigrew.”

Izora gave a jerky nod of acknowledgement to each young
man but didn’t look up from studiously staring at the dark green cover, her eyes
tracing over the intricate red and silver border on the front cover. The
compartment filled with awkward silence, but Izora didn’t care in the least;
she was already supremely uncomfortable after all, a little more awkwardness
wouldn’t bother her. Besides, it served those four idiot boys right for making
her uncomfortable in the first place.

But of course, awkward silences–or any kind of silences
really–didn’t sit well with James Potter and he cleared his throat after
sharing a look with Sirius.

“So,” He said with forced cheer, grinning genuinely when
Izora glanced at him, “What year are you in? You’re a bit too tall for a first
year…”

“Maybe she’s part Giant.” Peter Pettigrew suggested,
speaking up for the first time since James had introduced him earlier. “Like
Hagrid.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Wormy.” Sirius rolled his eyes with
a small scoff, then he smiled at Izora charmingly, “She’s much too pretty to be
part Giant.”

“’Ey now, Pads, don’t be rude. I’m sure Hagrid’s mother
was a very lovely Giantess.” James
joked, waggling his eyebrows and grinning. “She had to have been for Mr. Hagrid
to get on with her.”

Izora jumped when Sirius tossed his head back and let out
a loud bark of laughter.

“Too right, Prongs, mate.” The grey-eyed mischief maker
replied, waggling his own eyebrows now. “I bet she was just lovely.”

Izora wrinkled her nose as the two boys on either side of
her continued making ribald jokes about how lovely
Giantesses must be. She caught Remus’s eye and he rolled his eyes again,
sighing in a deprecating way and rolling his shoulders back in a ‘yes they’re
idiots, what can you do?’ type of gesture. Izora smiled weakly in response,
straightening a little from her hunched position as she got the tiniest bit
comfortable in the four young men’s presence.

The little bit of comfortableness she felt disappeared
like smoke in the wind when James abruptly cried out and pointed a finger in
her face. Izora blanched and stared at the phalange hovering a few centimeters
from her nose, her eyes wide and going slightly cross-eyed.

“Oi! Did you see that, Pads?” The bespectacled young man
demanded loudly over Izora’s head, no longer pointing his finger in her face
but gesturing rather exuberantly instead. Izora actually had to duck her head,
‘lest he hit her in the face. “She got us all distracted talking about the
lovely attributes of Giantesses instead of telling us what year she’s in!”

“Oh-ho,” Sirius chortled and shook his finger at her,
“Clever, very clever. But you can’t trick us. We’re the Marauders, dove! The
Kings of Pranks, Mischief, and Trickery!”

Izora gave him and James flabbergasted look, her mouth
hanging open slightly in what was no doubt a rather unattractive way, her eyes
the size of saucers, something they seemed to be doing quite often in the presence
of the four young men.

“I-I wasn’t…T-that’s n-not...I d-d-didn’t…Urk!” She made
a strangled noise and closed her eyes, bringing her book up to cover her
flaming face. These two were going to drive her mad! They were completely and
utter ridiculous! And imbecilic and completely off their rocks, and…and oh, how
she wished she could just disappear and not have to deal with them having a
laugh at her expense anymore…

She stood up abruptly, silencing James and Sirius’
uproarious laughter, Peter’s nervous chuckles, and Remus’ exasperated rebukes.
James and Sirius watched her curiously, Sirius with a little smirk tugging at
the corner of his pretty mouth while his grey eyes gleamed wickedly. Izora kept
her face turned away from them, hidden behind her hair as she snatched up her
school satchel (which had a set of her school robes packed inside), and tossed
the strap over her shoulder.

“I-I’m g-going to g-go c-ch-change!” Izora announced,
rather pointlessly, but with as much dignity as she could muster, despite her
perpetual stutter. And without waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and
promptly fled from the compartment, very nearly slamming the sliding door shut
in her haste.

James looked away from the door Izora had just fled out
of and tilted his head curiously as he asked the compartment at large. “Was it
something we said?”

“’Dunno, mate.” Sirius scratched the side of his head in
perplexedly, still staring at the compartment door then he shrugged.

Remus closed his eyes and shook his head, sighing in a
deprecating manner. He dearly loved James and Sirius–they were practically his
brothers, after all–but they could be so utterly thick at times. Remus had dealt with brick walls with more common
sense than those two. And Peter really didn’t help the situation, acting as if
everything Sirius and James did was gospel. It could be maddening.

“Honestly,” Remus muttered as he retrieved his satchel,
which contained his school uniform, from under his seat. “You two can be
thicker than a troll.”

“Oi!”

“Hey!”

Remus stopped rummaging through his satchel to pointedly
roll his eyes at his two best mates then went back to looking for his uniform,
moving aside several books he’d packed for the train ride. Grumbling to each
other, James and Sirius did the same while Peter followed suit a second later.
A few moments later, the four best friends and housemates were changing into
their uniforms.

Halfway through pulling his jumper over his head, James
suddenly swore and jerked the article of clothing off, whipping around to face
Sirius, who had just pulled off his own shirt.

“She never told us what year she was in, Pads!” James
waved his shirt around to gesticulate his upset over this revelation. “Or her
house for that matter!”

“You’re right, Prongs.” Sirius frowned, looking just as
offended as James did in that moment. “How rude!

Remus felt that if he rolled his eyes any harder, they’d
pop right out of his head and do a jig. “You never asked her what house she was
in.” Remus pointed out as he fastened his belt around his waist after pulling
on his black trousers and buttoning them.

Sirius and James opened their mouths to retort, closed
them a second later, and glanced at each other with furrowed brows.

“Well...” Sirius said slowly as he finished buttoning the
white, collared shirt students had to wear. “He’s not wrong.”

If he didn’t know James as well as he did, Remus would
have called the expression on his face a pout, but alas, Remus did know James, quite well in fact and
he knew that if even eluded that his Quidditch-playing best friend was capable
of pouting, he’d end up with neon pink hair for a week. Shaking his head and
sighing, Remus finished dressing, slipping on his black school robes before
taking a seat once again. He picked up his satchel and placed it on his lap,
rummaging through it in search of his Prefect badge while distractedly
listening to James and Sirius speculate on which house Izora Hallowell was in,
Peter chiming in occasionally.

“She’s definitely Hufflepuff.” Sirius said with a
decisive nod after refuting Peter’s suggestion of the interesting young woman
being in Ravenclaw. He dropped back down in his seat and propped his feet up on
the seat across from him, folding his hands on his stomach and smirking—it was
more of a leer really—cockily. “I’ve shagged enough of them to recognize
Hufflepuff birds even without their robes.”

“They’re always so stuttery and nervous at first, but
then…” He trailed off and waggled his eyebrows pointedly, growling playfully.

Peter squeaked, going bright red, and Sirius and James
erupted into loud laughter at his expense while Remus just rolled his eyes at
his friends, making a grimacing in distaste. While he had certainly become used
to Sirius’ boasting when it came to his more…carnal past times, Remus had grown
to find his friend’s bragging aggravating.

Remus sighed and shook his head, pulling a book out of
his bag while blocking out the sounds of Sirius and James ribbing Peter for
blushing as they talked about past conquests. Not even an hour into the seven
hour train ride and Remus was already looking forward to the Prefect meeting
and his rounds, just to get away from his three friends for a little bit. He
loved his friends, but sometimes they drove him mad.

Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, Izora kept her
head down as she made her way to the loo at the end of the train car. Her mind
was restless, thoughts whirling about like a maelstrom of disjointed words,
images, and emotions. Not that such a predicament was anything new to her; her
mind was very much a fragmented, disorderly labyrinth ninety percent of the
time.

But it made sense to her, at least…well usually it did.
There were times, like right now for instance, where her mind was nothing more
than a nonsensical mess to her. She hated moments like that. Hated that she
didn’t have even a semblance of control over her own thoughts, chaotic though
they may be. And right now, she really disliked the Marauders for causing her
current mental disarray. Her thoughts ranged from how pretty Sirius Black’s
eyes were, to wondering if James Potter had ever even heard of a hair brush, to the curious case of how Peter Pettigrew
had become friends with such an outgoing set of boys, to the even more curious
case of whyRemus Lupin looked so world-weary and haggard for one so young.
That particular thought circulated through her head more often than any other.
It was starting to become ridiculous.

Izora shook her head, attempting to dispel her scattered
thoughts, her expression skewing with frustration as her mind continued to run
itself in complicated circles revolving around the Marauders.

“Oh sweet Morgana.” She muttered the familiar, if little
used oath, under her breath and she knocked on the wooden door of the loo with
some impatience. When there was no response after several moments, Izora shoved
the sliding door open and stepped into the small water closet, almost but not
quite slamming the door shut behind her and locking it with probably more
aggression than was strictly necessary.

Izora dropped her satchel to the ground and turned
towards the sink, gripping the edges so hard the bones of her knuckles stood
out. She closed her eyes and bowed her head, lips moving faintly as she
silently counted to twenty, first in English then in Romanian—a grounding
technique she’d been using ever since second year. Slowly, gradually, the
mental whirlwind calmed to a more manageable chaos and Izora let out a sigh of
relief(2). Her thoughts still buzzed, but they were more subdued than
the hoard of hyperactive Cornish Pixies they had been before. Her thoughts were
often like that, flitting about the multi-tiered labyrinth she’d constructed in
her head(3).

The blonde lifted her head and regarded her reflection in
the grubby, circular mirror above the sink; an almost skeletal, wraith of a
girl stared back at her. Scrutinizing her gaunt face, Izora reached up and
prodded at the dark smudges under her left eye then ran her gloved fingertips
over hollowed cheek. How lovely, she looked like death warmed over.

“Wonderful, I look like a corpse.” Izora grumbled,
letting her hand drop back to the sink edge with a quiet sigh of consternation.
“Galen is going to lynch me when he sees me.”

Her eager mind(4) thrust a rather lovely visual
to go along with the sentiment and Izora pulled a face, turning away from the
mirror and snatching her satchel up from the ground. She plopped the worn
leather shoulder-bag on the sink, unclasped it, and flipped it open. The
undetectable extension charm placed on the satchel had Izora rummaging inside
it for several minutes before she finally found her neatly folded uniform and
school robes. She pulled her wand from the pocket of her peacoat and set it
aside then began to disrobe.

“Chip
the glasses and crack the plates! Blunt the knives and bend the forks! That’s
what Bilbo Baggins hates!” Izora murmured the poem from The Hobbit quietly to herself—further
grounding her mind, carefully folding each article of clothing she removed and
placing it inside her satchel until she was only in her undergarments and her
socks.

Wiggling her toes, Izora grabbed her black skirt and
squirmed into it, smoothing it down before grabbing her black tights from the
neat pile resting beside her satchel on the sink.

“Hmm…” Izora hummed, scrunching her nose up as she looked
around the small water closet, her eyes settling on the toilet. She pulled a
face and, with a reluctant sigh, she used her wand to close the lid then sat
down stiffly. She made sure her skirt kept the bare skin of her thighs from touching
the lid. She continued to idly hum to That’s
What Bilbo Baggins Hates! to herself as she carefully pulled on her tights.
It was a ridiculous, extremely amusing poem and it kept her mind occupied,
which was lovely.

“Smash
the bottles and burn the corks! Cut the cloth and tread the fat! Pour the milk
on the pantry floor!”

She slipped her Mary-Janes on her feet after adjusting
her stockings then she stood up, wrangling herself into the camisole she wore
under her button-up, which she slipped on next and tucked into her skirt after
buttoning it up. “Leave the bones on the
mat! Splash the wine on every door! Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl; Pound
them up with a thumping pole! And when you’re fini-“

The sound of someone wrapping their fist against the wooden
door of the loo cut Izora off and she froze halfway through pulling her gray
jumper-vest over her head.

“Hello?” An impatient voice demanded from the other side
of the door, “Do hurry up in there. Other people who need to use the loo!”

Squeaking and blushing furiously, Izora hurriedly yanked
her vest down all the way, snatched up her robe, tossed her satchel strap over
her head, grabbed her wand and shoved it into her skirt pocket. Another round
of impatient knocking sent her scurrying to unlock and open the door to the
loo, throwing the sliding door open with probably a little more force then
strictly necessary.

Izora’s pallid face flushed red with embarrassment when
the young, brunette woman, standing with her arms crossed and a hip cocked to
the side, quirked a brow and sneered at her.

“Took you bloody long enough.”

Izora ducked her head and shuffled out of the washroom,
skirting around the other young woman, practically cementing herself to the
wall to avoid any contact with the brunette. Izora heard the door to the loo
slide shut as she hurried down hall, heading back to her compartment. She’d
forgotten about the awaited her in the compartment while she’d been getting
dressed, her mind much more focused on putting on her clothes and remembering
the words to Tolkien’s poem.

Unfortunately it all came rushing back when she slid the
compartment door opened and was met with four pairs of eyes turning to stare at
her.

“She’s a bloody Gryffindor!”

Izora flinched at James loud exclamation of disbelief,
her brow furrowing at the absolutely gobsmacked expression he wore. The bespectacled
boy shoved Sirius, who looked positively gleeful as he looked her up and down.

“She…what…how…Pads!” James smacked Sirius, who looked
positively gleeful as he looked her up and down. He gestured wildly in Izora’s
direction when Sirius glanced at him. “Gryffindor, Pads! Bloody Gryffindor!”

“I can see that, mate.” Sirius replied, still sounding
delighted at this unforeseen turn of events, and his gaze returned to Izora.

His eyes lingered on her legs and Izora shifted
uncomfortable, her hands tightening around the satchel of her school bag. His
gaze flicked up to meet hers and smiled wickedly. The blood rushed to her face
so fast, Izora thought she was going to faint. Never ever in her teenaged life
had a guy looked at her the way Sirius bleeding Black was currently was. He
looked as if he wanted to eat her and Izora felt quite naked under his gaze,
something she didn’t enjoy.

Not. One. Bit.

“Why don’t you sit down, dove?” Sirius cajoled, patting
the open seat between him and James with a charming smile.

Will
you step into my parlour, said the spider to the fly.
Izora thought quite hysterically, her mind conjuring a rather vivid image
Sirius Black as a spider trying to devour the poor little fly that was herself.
Face still burning with embarrassment and discomfort, Izora cagily edged her
way back to her seat, sliding the compartment door behind her.

Sirius’s grin widened and he beckoned her closer. Izora
bit back a frown and kept her eyes firmly on her shoes instead of meeting his
flirtatious gaze, even though she could feel his eyes boring into her. It was
very uncomfortable and anxiety churned in her stomach, tightening it in knots.
She chanced a glance to her right and nearly tripped over her own feet; Remus
Lupin was staring at his friend with annoyance etched all over his haggard,
scarred face, golden-brown eyes frustrated. His eyes flickered to her,
softened, and he offered her a small smile.

Izora swallowed thickly and looked away, stare returning
to her shoes, as she timidly sat down in the seat between Sirius and James. She
kept her satchel in her lap, holding it tightly to her practically like a
shield. Sirius was still staring at her and Izora felt the sudden urge to poke
him in the eye with her wand just to get him to stop bloody staring at her!

Swallowing thickly, Izora slowly turned her head in
Sirius’ direction, focusing her eyes on his nose instead of meeting his eyes.
“C-can I-I-I h-he-help y-you?”

“Actually, you
can.” Sirius replied with a smirk and he leaned forward, his voice becoming a
low, intimate whisper. “Why don’t you tell me what year you’re in, dove?”

He reached out and twirled a strand of her pale blonde
hair around his calloused finger. In a rush of righteous indignation, Izora
reared back and slapped his hand away from her, her nervous expression morphing
into anger.

Sirius straightened in surprise, his brows shooting up to
nearly his hairline as he regarded the young woman currently glaring at him
with utmost contempt. Peter squeaked and the quiet conversation James and Remus
had been engaged in petered out and the three looked towards Sirius and Izora
curiously, or in Peter’s case anxiously.

“Er…”James raised his brows and looked between Izora and
Sirius, “Alright then, you two?”

Izora’s eyes flickered towards the other three young men
and she felt a wave of nervous embarrassment surge through her, snuffing out
her feminine fury as if it had never been. She huddled into her seat, pressing
her back against her seat and wishing it would just swallow her up.

James looked over her head at Sirius questioningly,
“Pads?”

“Alright, Prongs.” Sirius replied at last, still looking
contemplatively at Izora with his head tilted slightly to the side. After a
moment, he smirked and looked over at James. “Seems like our little Izzy has a
bit of a bite to her.”

Izora’s grip tightened on her satchel, her hands itching
to smack the cockiness right out of the boy sitting to her left. If he kept it
up, she’d show him just how much of a bite she really had. Izora was saved from
further humiliation when the compartment door slid open and the Marauders’
attention was focused there.

“There you are
Remus.” Lily Evans, one of the brightest witches in all of Hogwarts and the
subject of James Potter’s dubious attentions, stated in obvious relief. “The
Prefects meeting is about to start.”

“Alright.” Remus replied, closing the book he’d been
trying to read and tucking it into his satchel. “Give me a moment.”

“Lily!” James exclaimed excitedly and jumped to his feet.
He cleared his throat and ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to act as
casually as he could after that little display of overenthusiasm. “How, uh, how
was your summer, Evans?”

Izora glanced up at the redhead shyly then looked back
down at her satchel, “H-hello Lily.”

“So, Evans,” James said, sidling up to Lily with a
hopeful expression, “I was wondering if you-“

“I’m surprised to see you here.” Lily spoke over James
loudly without looking at him, keeping her gaze determinedly on the thin
blonde. “I’d have thought you would be sitting with your friends. Instead of…”
She trailed off and casted a disdainful look at James, Sirius, and Peter.
“Instead of this lot.”

“Come now, Evans.” Sirius drawled nonchalantly, smirking
as he lounged back in his seat. “We’re not that
bad.” He tossed a muscular arm over Izora’s shoulder, completely forgetting—or
more like ignoring her earlier demand to not touch her. “Right Izzy?”

Izora scrambling out from under his arm and into James’
vacated was all the response he received. Sirius chortled and she shot him a
look of loathing from where she was practically merged herself with the
compartment wall.

“That’s enough, Padfoot.” Remus chided, swatting the back
of his friend’s head as he got to his feet. He gave Izora a small smile that
widened slightly when she relaxed marginally and tentatively returned his smile
with a barely noticeable one of her own. Shouldering his school bag, he turned
towards Lily. “I’m ready.”

Lily, having observed the whole scene while ignoring
James’ attempts to pester her, nodded in acknowledgement then looked towards
Izora. “Would you like to come with us, Izora? I can take you to the
compartment Dmitri is in if you’d like.”

Izora opened her mouth to respond with emphatic
agreement, but hesitated and peeked at the Marauders. Sirius was turned towards
her, his brows raised in an almost challenging manner, James was glancing
between her and Lily longingly, Peter wasn’t even looking at her, his gaze
focused on his shoes, and Remus...well he was staring at her with what Izora
was beginning to realize was patented look of utter patience and understanding.

“N-no, I-I’m f-f-fine here. Tha-thank you.” The stuttered
sentences spewed from her mouth without her consent and Izora clapped her hands
over her mouth, once again looking like a deer-caught-in-the-headlights when
Sirius let out a whoop of triumphant.

“You heard her, Evans. She wants to stay with us.” Sirius
taunted slightly. Lily shot him a dirty look and he rolled his eyes, “Oh come
off it, Evans. She doesn’t need you to protect her virtue. She’s quite capable of doing that for
herself.” He muttered the last bit under his breath, amusement obvious then
raised his voice to a normal volume once more. “Now run along with Moony to
your little Prefects’ meeting.”

Lily’s face turned red and she opened her mouth, no doubt
getting geared up to let loose a torrent of impolite and violent threats and
insults upon Sirius Black’s person, but Remus quickly stepped in front of her
and distracted her.

“We really should be going, Lily. We don’t want to be
late.” Remus said calmly, gently ushering her out of the compartment doorway
before turning to shut it. He looked over at Izora and smiled gently, “I’ll be
back once my rounds are finished.” Next he addressed his three friends, his
kind expression becoming stern, “Behave yourselves.”

“Why Moony, I’m hurt.” Sirius exclaimed dramatically,
clutching at his chest as if he were in pain. He winked at Izora then continued
theatrically. “I’m a perfect angel. Isn’t that right, Prongs? Aren’t we perfect
angels?”

“Hmm?” James muttered distractedly, trying—and failing—to
peer around Remus in order to get a last glimpse of Lily. Sirius rolled his
eyes and stretched a leg out, kicking the back of bespectacled boy’s calf.
James yelped and whipped around to glare at his best friend. “Ow! Bloody hell,
Pads, what was that for, you prat?”

“Just…” Remus sighed and shook his head in exasperation. “Just
don’t do anything too stupid.”

“We make no promises.” Sirius replied innocently,
smirking slightly at the rueful glare James was giving him as he rubbed his
aching calf.

Remus looked up at the ceiling, as if imploring the gods
to save him from his ridiculous friends, then with one last glance towards
Izora, he shut the compartment door. Sirius waited all of three seconds before
twisting around in his seat to stare intently at Izora.

Izora, for her part, just stare warily, a smidge
defiantly, back at him with her satchel held protectively in front of her and
her back pressed against the compartment wall. Sirius grinned; she looked like
a cornered and pissed off alley cat.

“So, Izzy,” He drew the newly coined nickname out.

“D-don’t c-c-call me th-that.”

Sirius ignored her sharp, if stuttery demand and
continued with a smirk, “You still haven’t told us what year you’re in.”

Izora let out a quiet snort and sent him a quelling look
of utter derision in response. Like bloody hell he was going to get anything
out of her after everything he’d pulled.

“C’mon, Izzy.” James coaxed, joining Sirius in his
wheedling as he dropped down heavily in Remus’ vacated seat directly across
from her. “What’s the harm in telling us what year you’re in? Surely, it’s not
that big of a deal.”

Izora shook her head stubbornly and refused to speak,
fixing her stare on her the top of her satchel. She’d made it nearly her entire
school life without drawing too much attention to herself, like bloody hell
she’d let these two cheeky, attention-seeking tossers ruin that on a whim.
Izora grimaced slightly; oh brilliant, now her inner monologue had a
distinctive ‘Lily Evans’ feel to it. Lovely. That was just…lovely.

Several hours after Lily had fetched Remus for the
Prefects meeting found Izora huddled in her corner seat beside the
compartment’s window with her back against the wall, her knees drawn up, and
her school robes draped over her legs like a makeshift blanket. Her school bag
was resting on her former seat and she had The
Hobbit propped up on her knees, picking up where she’d left off when the
four Marauders had invaded her compartment near the start of the train ride.

Sirius and James were sitting across from her—Sirius now
sitting in the window-seat and James right beside him— their heads close
together as they conversed in quiet whispers, occasionally shooting
surreptitious glances in Izora’s direction. Izora ignored them as she had been
doing for the past four or so hours, stubbornly refusing to even acknowledge
their presence. The Honeydukes Express trolley had come and gone half an hour
ago; this marked the train ride’s halfway point, seeing as how the trolley
witch didn’t begin making rounds until then. The three remaining Marauders had
converged on the poor elderly woman like a pack of ravenous wolves, purchasing
practically everything on the trolley—Izora, not having much of a sweet-tooth,
had of course, politely refused the trolley witch’s offering of something sweet
from her cart while the boys raided said cart.

Izora had taken the momentary bedlam created by the three
young men to pull Draci from his carrier and place him in her lap before
resuming her previous seating position. By the time Sirius, James, and Peter
had returned to their seats across from her, arms laden with various Honeydukes
sweets, Izora was once again reading her book, the three boys none the wiser to
the pine marten curled up in the space between her stomach and thighs.

Very much engrossed in the adventure of Bilbo Baggins and
the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, Izora failed to notice James and Sirius
conclude their quiet scheming and were now staring at her with identical looks
of mischief, each of them with a handful of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.
She was unaware, at least, until one said sweets bounced off of her head. Izora
jumped a bit in surprise and whipped her head around, lips twisted downward in
an irate glower. As soon as her vexed gaze landed on the pair, Sirius and James
silenced their snickers and smiled innocently at her, their hands suspiciously
hidden from view.

Izora eyed them narrowly for several moments then huffed
quietly and went back to reading, shifting a small bit so she was turned
slightly away from the two insufferable young men. Not even a second later
another projectile ricocheted off the back of her head followed by a hissed;

“Izzy!”

Izora gritted her teeth and hunched her shoulders,
determined to ignore James and Sirius and continue reading her book. She was
just getting to a rather exciting part where the Company was trapped in a tree
surrounded by wolves and goblins when flew past her shoulder, bounced off the
back of the seat and landed on Draci’s head. The marten jolted and shook his
blunt, triangular head with an agitated chitter, sending the sweet to the
ground. Izora shifted her white-knuckled grip on her book to one hand and
gently dropped her free hand to Draci’s head, stroking his ears soothingly.
Draci settled down slightly and repositioned himself, peering under Izora’s arm
and riveting his jet-black eyes on the ever oblivious James and Sirius.

“Psst! Izzy!
Guess what?” James stage-whispered and he grinned cheekily when she shot him an
annoyed look over her shoulder. “We figured out what year you’re in, Izzy.”

“You’re a sixth year.” Sirius finished triumphantly,
crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back in his seat with a
self-satisfied smirk.

Unimpressed, Izora glanced between them, her gaze flat
and lips pursed. They stared back at her expectantly, looking so very proud of
themselves, as if they’d just figured out some complicated mystery and were
waiting to be showered with praise and adoration.

“F-f-figure th-that out a-all by y-you-yourselves
th-then?” Izora stuttered out drily, barely refraining from rolling her eyes as
she turned back to her book. Merlin, they were such twits.

“I’ll have you know we deduced your year in a blaze of
intellectual glory.” Sirius retorted with playful indignation after sharing a
mock-affronted look with James. “You should be impressed. It was really quite
brilliant, wasn’t it, Prongs?”

“Indeed it was, my good sir.” James agreed in a stuffy
sort of voice before pronouncing quite theatrically, “You see, little Izzy,
when we realized that my dearest Lilyflower recognized you, we were able to
infer that you shared a dormitory with the most beautiful, intelligent-“

“And since Evans is in our year, that must mean you are too.” Sirius cut James off before
he could go on rambling, speaking in a voice worthy of one of the snobbish
politician from the Ministry of Magic.

“Oi,” James snapped, rather outraged at being
interrupted, and he shoved his best friend’s shoulder, “I was getting to that
bit!”

Sirius just smirked smugly at him, “Please, Prongs, you
can go on about your ‘Dearest Lilyflower’ for hours. I was just saving time.”

Izora couldn’t help it, the indignant look James fixed
Sirius with, caused her to snort a small laugh. The Marauders’ two ringleaders
instantly locked on the sound and looked at her with victorious grins. Izora
flushed and ducked her head, bringing her book up to hide her face. Once again,
she was spared from further humiliation as the compartment door slid open.

“Zora.”

The deep, slightly accented voice caused Izora to lift
and turn her head so quickly, she thought she put a crick in it. At once her expression
went from annoyed embarrassment to utter delight and, after depositing Draci
and her book on the seat beside her, she all but scrambled to her feet and flew
at the tall, lanky young man standing in the door way.

“Dmitri!” Izora almost squealed, prompting surprised
looks from the three Marauders in the compartment.

Grunting quietly, Dmitri Ţepeş took a small step back to
keep his balance as eight and a half stones of blonde Gryffindor bowled into
him, her thin arms twining around his waist in a fierce hug. He snorted and
exasperatedly rolled his eyes in at her show of exuberant affection even though
he still wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Uncaring of her observers, she
pressed her forehead against his chest and closed her eyes. The haze she’d
pushed back earlier when Sirius had kissed her hand surged forward, blanketing
her mind for only a second before images began playing like a Muggle
movie-reel.

—
Green and brown blurs of trees whipping past
Wind, icy cold and burning against unprotected skin
Elation, the complete and utter euphoric feeling of flying
Of experience a true sense of freedom…

“Dmitri
Vladimir Ţepeş, you get off that broom right now, young man!”
Laughter, deep and resounding, filled the air after the shrill shriek
The euphoric feeling evaporated, replaced by mild annoyance…—

Izora grinned, lifted her head, and met Dmitri’s deadpan
gaze. He sneered down at her, the look more playful than actually contemptuous.
Cantankerous prat he may be, but he’d never begrudge her the opportunity to
practice her gift; it was practically tradition for her to use her psychometry
to snoop on their summers.

“Nosy chit.” He muttered, causing her smile to widen
slightly then he looked over her head. His coal black eyes narrowed and he
regarded the three young men with open contempt, “So this is why you aren’t
sitting with Galen and me.”

Izora abruptly remembered the other three people she was
sharing a compartment with and she seemed to almost shrink, her face becoming
ghostly. Slowly, she turned in Dmitri’s grip to face the three Marauders and
shrank even further at the looks they were giving her; James’ hazel eyes were
flickering between herself and Dmitri behind his spectacles, looking rather
puzzled with his head tilted to the side, Sirius was lounging back in his seat
with his arms crossed over his chest, a look of cool indifference on his face,
and Peter, poor Peter looked extremely confused and about as uncomfortable as
Izora currently felt.

“This your bloke, Izzy?” Sirius asked as he quirked a
sardonic brow at her. The ‘didn’t know you could get a boyfriend’ went unsaid,
but was heard by all.

Izora grimaced slightly at his tone, like he expected her
to apologize for not mentioning that she actually had friends and that her
world did not, in fact, revolve around him and the rest of the Marauders. Izora
tilted her chin up defiantly and firmed her mouth as she spat out a retort;

“P-piss o-off, y-y-you wa-wanker.”

Sirius scoffed quietly and turned away, glaring moodily
out the window. James glanced between his sulking best friend, the young blonde
woman glowering mutinously, and the irritable-looking young man standing behind
her.

“Well, this is sufficiently awkward.” The bespectacled
young man stated loudly, his amused voice cutting through the rising tension
like a knife. He ignored the outraged look Sirius sent him as he waved towards
the seats across from him and his two friends. “Izzy, why don’t you and your
bloke come and sit down, yeah?”

Izora shoulders slumped a bit in mild relief, her rigid
posture losing its tension-caused stiffness. Eying Sirius cagily, she grabbed
Dmitri’s wrist, moved his arm from around her shoulders, and led him to the
seat across from the three Marauders. She dropped down heavily in the ugly seat
by the window, directly across from Sirius, and Dmitri sat beside her after she
placed her schoolbag under the seat and placed Draci in her lap. He sat with a
lazy sort of hostility, his arms crossed standoffishly over his chest,
shoulders held back and posture loose; as if he was just for a confrontation to
start up. Sirius, Izora noted, was in a similar, if a little more tense,
position. They were both glaring balefully at each other.

James was looking increasingly amused by the whole
situation, evident by the way he kept glancing between the two with grin that
was steadily growing until his dimple was visible. Izora just found their male
posturing exceptionally exasperating and was wondering if it was possible to
suffocate on an excess of testosterone. Judging from the way Peter currently
looked—rather panicked and very strained, Izora had a feeling it was possible.

Looking completely at ease and beaming quite madly at
this point, James settled back in his seat and folded his hands behind his
head, before nudging Izora’s leg with the toe of his shoe, “Eh, Izzy, introduce
us to your bloke, will you?”

Izora startled like a deer, peering at the bespectacled
boy owlishly. He gazed back at her expectantly, raising and lowering his brows
and pointedly nodding his head in Dmitri’s direction. Dmitri, having seen the
whole exchange, rolled his eyes and snorted.

“I’m not her ‘bloke’, Potter.” Dmitri drawled out flatly,
“Shirty cow though she is, Izora is my best mate. More of a sister really.” He
added that last bit in an offhanded manner.

Dmitri grunted and tried to fend her off, swatting her
hands away from his person as if he were waving away an annoying fly. “Merlin,
calm down, woman! It was a joke! Not that it isn’t true.” He muttered the last
bit under his breath, but Izora still heard him and promptly switched from
smacking him with her hands to using her book.

James was watching the whole interaction with unholy
glee, his mind already whirling at how much of a paradox the young woman was.
She was definitely someone he wanted to befriend. Beside him, Sirius was also
watching Izora accost her friend, his lips unwillingly tugging up into an
amused smirk. His thoughts were in a similar vein to his best mate; although ‘friendship’
maybe wasn’t necessarily what he had
in mind.

“Ow! Alright! Enough
woman!” Dmitri demanded, snatching the book from Izora’s grasp and holding
it out of her reach. Glowering, he swore at her colorfully and nastily in
Romanian until she boxed him ‘round the ears in retaliation. He rubbed the side
of his head and scowled at her but wisely remained silent when she narrowed her
eyes dangerously.

Izora snorted as he sulkily slouched in his seat and
crossed his arms over his chest, his expression the very picture of petulance.
She caught James and Sirius observing her mirthfully and she blushed, feeling
horrified over what they had witnessed. It was one thing for her to act like a
complete nutter around Dmitri and Galen, but she hardly knew James, Sirius, and
Peter. She wished the ground would open up and devour her—that’s if she didn’t
die of mortification first, of course.

“Well then, that was certainly entertaining.” James
stated cheerfully, dimple flashing as he grinned while his hazel eyes danced
with good humor. He nodded his head towards Dmitri, “We still haven’t gotten
your name, mate. Though you obviously know who we are.”

Dmitri casted a disinterested glance in the bespectacled
young man’s direction then deadpanned, “Yeah, the Marauders are pretty well-known.” He didn’t make any move to
continue, at least not until Izora elbowed him pointedly in the side. He
grunted;

Sirius’ brow shot up and he gave the dark eyed young man
a look of disbelief, “Hufflepuff, really?”

“Are you taking the piss?” James sputtered out at the
same time then he and Sirius exchanged unreadable looks and simultaneously
burst into raucous laughter. After a moment, Peter joined in nervously, his
chuckles weak and unsure.

Dmitri scoffed and rolled his head in Izora’s direction,
rather used to this type of reaction, but no less annoyed by it. He drawled out
flatly, “Your new mates are bleeding twats, Zora.”

“N-not my m-m-mates.” Izora muttered, eying James and
Sirius like one would eye a particularly disgusting bogey; they were
practically convulsing in their chairs from laughter. Izora grimaced and
glanced out the now rain-streaked window, taking in the darkened sky.

Turning away, she reached over Dmitri and picked up her
book, flipping through the pages until she found her place then she settled
into continue reading. She immersed in the story, trying to ignore the way
James and Sirius, with Peter tentatively joining in, began taking the mickey
out of Dmitri for being a Hufflepuff— luckily he was so used to it by now that
he simply scoffed and replied with scathing retorts that did nothing but elate
the two mischief-makers. Izora snorted and rolled her eyes; they were
definitely not her mates and they never would be, not if she had anything to do
with it.

It. Would. Never.
Bloody. Happen.

If only she knew how wrong she was…

1 Any
and all skin-to-skin contact can trigger Izora’s psychometry, but her hands are
much for sensitive/powerful conduits for her gift. This pretty much means that
even though she wears gloves, if she’s not actively shielding her mind against
it, she can still pick up faint thoughts/memories/etc. from a person if they
touch/grab her hands. But that’s only for people; she can’t get readings off of
inanimate objects through her gloves.

2 The
way Izora’s thought process works was inspired by Cassandra Cillian from The
Librarians (in that it’s very chaotic and disjointed, but still somehow all
connects). Pretty much due to her psychometry, Izora developed a form Synesthesia,
which allows her to link certain senses (if not all five of them) to her
memory.

3 The
‘multi-tiered labyrinth she’d constructed in her head’ is inspired by BBC
Sherlock’s ‘Mind Palace’ as well as FF Author Cuckoo on a String’s character
Hal (from her story Sin Eater)’s mental library. It’s pretty much how she deals
with her psychometry; each ‘tier’ of the labyrinth has represents the various
memories, emotions, etc. that she’s gathered throughout her life from touching
things/people. Each time she touches someone/thing, a new memory is added to
whichever ‘tier’ it belongs to, making that particular maze even more
complicated. When she touches someone/thing new, an entirely new ‘tier’ is
added to her labyrinth.

4 Izora’s
mind/thoughts/memory is heavily visually based; meaning that she more often
sees things as images and certain things can trigger her mind to thrust
different visuals to the forefront (i.e. she once touched something that
belonged to a man that was in fact
lynched, thus when she mentioned Galen lynching her, her mind provided that
visual). Also if she focuses enough, she can visualize her mental labyrinth on
her surrounds and in the air around her head (once again, like Cassandra
Cillian from The Librarians).

Write a Review
Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks,
Plagues_Vengeance

annie08c:
I really like this story, I can relate to it a lot and with how she feels, the boyfriend and the events that happened but I'm a little bit younger. It was really good plot, really liked how you stuck to the topic and you had a new title for every chapter making me guess what's going to happen. Ma...

Giuliana Cassetta:
My face is full of tears, I never cried like now with a book or even a movie. I loved every single chapter. I truly don't know what to say, I'm out of words and my eyes hurt from crying. Such an bittersweet story, it's so wonderful. One of my favorites for sure. Keep it up!

Stephen Warner:
To start off, I am thoroughly impressed. The writing style is somewhat unique, and the plot seemed to move at a nice and steady pace. However, I was not expecting this to be a vampire book! I am usually not one for novels about vampires, but I was pleasantly surprised! You wrote with such grace a...

Lydia Walters:
I really enjoyed this novel. It gives us a view of what could be if we really tried.Also that there's nothing wrong with loving our LORD and our fellow humans. couldn't wait to get to each new chapter (mission). Thanks, Joe!

zoheusher20:
What more can I say? The writing style and little details drew me into the book and for the entirety of the story I was Juliet. I felt her turmoil and emotions and every trouble or triumph as they arrived. This story was very different and had quite a few little but unexpected twists that made it...

Jade Niday:
This book has a really great plot. The author really makes you feel connected to the main character. There are twist around every corner you never see coming.. Great read for sure and I can't wait to see what happens next.

Dessie Williams:
loved the book. the plot the characters all just great.I think it's a must read. once you start this book it's hard to put down. hope it gets published....I think this book is a must read.great job!!!!

Hawkebat:
Playing both Kotor I & II and Swtor I found the story line interesting and it held me until chapter 35 Very good story and plot flow until then, very few technical errors. I felt that the main character was a bit under and over powered, as it fought for balance. The last few chapters felt too f...

Sandra Estrada:
I loved every minute of it and I thank my lucky stars that brought me to the story, it's been a whirlwind of emotions, plot twist after plot twist but I never got tired of them. Abby and Kade's story is a hard one to understand but once you're submerged in their story and love, you can't help but...

Alani Foreigner:
I absolutely loved how you created this story. It isn't like the other cliché stories I've ever read. I had just started reading it yesterday and just had to finish it. The main characters are grotesquely awesome and I fell in love with them. If you're into fantasy and stuff I can guarantee that ...

maewilde25:
I am so in love with this story!!! captivated me till the very end, there wasn't a dull moment. Didn't particularly enjoy the lay out and some bits of info was missing along with how a 21 year old man amassed so much wealth that needed to be explained other than that and a few spelling errors, th...

JONANNA:
As an avid reader it is not often I say that about a book. The plot is what was different and the twists where unexpected. This book is defiantly a page turner and enjoyable read. I can't wait to reread this novel after a little editing to finish off the shine on this wonderful novel.

Hudson:
Your story was fantastic Erin! The Rising Sun was one of the first stories I read on Inkitt, and I have to say I don't regret the three to four days I spent pouring through the story.Probably the biggest strength I see in your writing is your characterisation of Eliana, Oriens, and the rest of th...

genlynne2379:
I read the other review of this book and I must say that I disagree with it wholeheartedly. I do not believe the author put the apostrophes in the names just to be unique, but because the characters are supposedly of a different race than humans. They are Anmah. They should have different names a...

Dru83:
This is the second or third time I've read this one and I just love it. It has just about everything you could ever want packed into one scifi story. It still has some parts that are a little rough in terms of grammar, punctuation, and word usage, but it's still an awesome story. I love how detai...

Other Collections

About Us:

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered book publisher, offering an online community for talented authors and book lovers. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books you love the most based on crowd wisdom.